


When the Moon Calls

by Seegen



Series: Power of the Moon [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU: Canon divergence, Druid!Stiles, F/M, M/M, Multi, Rating: NC17, Sentient!moon, Threesome - M/M/M, Vying for Stiles, presence of other supernatural creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seegen/pseuds/Seegen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of Nature must be kept balanced. This is the one law that is immutable. Everything else is subject to change, but Nature must remain constant. It is the responsibility of the Three Families: Were, Eternal, and Mortal, to watch after the balance, and to make sure the Earth remains healthy.</p><p>This has been slowly shifting for the past 200 years, and has hit a real downward spiral in recent years, but it all came to head with the discovery of the Darach. Now the Three Families, for the first time in recorded history, must bond together to fight a common foe.</p><p>But it won't be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dear All:
> 
> If everything goes according to plan, this will be an epic fiction filled with romance, angst, comedy, and just enough smut to keep it interesting (ah, who am I kidding, there's going to be multiple chapters devoted purely to smut. it would not be a true ship-fiction otherwise.)
> 
> Hope to post every other day, but if I don't, don't freak out. I'll get to it eventually.
> 
> Loves, Dreyth

Prologue

The moon was full, and hung round and silver-white in the night sky, unobscured by clouds or man, and fairly pulsed with power as it drifted across the heavens.

The ever present hum of magic called to the three families, and each responded in kind. This was no ordinary full moon: tonight is the night that moons apex and winters longest night entwine. The creatures of the night felt the pull of the moon and, for once, it responded.

Ever closer, the moon rose to it's peak, the pulsing of magic getting more resonant until finally it reached a constant state of engagement.

A bright flash seared from the sky, down through the trees, and slammed into the ground with a loud _CRACK_ and, as if the last several hours meant nothing, the thrum of power abruptly stopped.

In the middle of a circle of melted snow lay a man, whose white skin shone in the moonlight.

* * *

Sinviaus looked at the moon in mild contemplation before taking off through the trees, feet barely touching the ground as he did so. The moon called to his Passenger, and his flame for the hunt was fanned.

He darted this way and that, darting around, up, and down trees with a speed so great that he was nothing more than a blur to the passerby. Not that there were ever any passersby out here. Sinviaus is all alone.

* * *

Derek eyed the moon through the red eyes of an Alpha, and felt his wolf rise within him, the urge to howl completely taking over as his diaphragm contracted, and he bellowed into the night sky. Whether in response to his howl, or in awe of the moon, his pack followed his lead, and together they set off into the darkness with naught but the light of the strange moon to guide their way.

* * *

With a shiver, the man woke up. He looked around before turning his face towards the moon. For a moment he was captivated by it, it's unique, ephemeral beauty causing his breath to catch and his heart to beat just a little faster.

As if to remind him of the cold, his body shivered once more, and he made to stand up. He braced his hands against the ground, and struggled to rise.

In the distance he heard howling, and turned his head to look around once more. Seeing nothing, he left the circle, now burned into the ground, and began to walk.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The rain began to fall lightly, which caused Stiles to wake with a start. He opened his eyes, but quickly wished he hadn't as daggers of pain made their way through his optic nerve and into his brain.

“Oh God, what the hell happened?” he groaned as he rubbed his hands vigorously over his face.

All around him the rest of the pack began to wake with similar groans of pain; when he thought that he had gathered enough will, he began to crack his eyes open, letting the daylight shine through, a piece at a time, until he had his eyes almost all the way open.

“Where are we?” Scott asked feeling the ground around him, eyes still closed.

“Outside.” Derek grunted, still unmoving on the ground

“Way to go Captain Obvious.” Erica sniped, “but that doesn't explain why we're all naked.”

Stiles looked around and, indeed, the entire pack was naked; even Lydia and Alison. He quickly put his hands over his crotch, and blushed as Erica winked at him.

“Aww, are you and little Stiles shy?” she quipped

Derek, Isaac, and Jackson snorted, Scott and Boyd smirked, Lydia and Alison started to giggle, and Stiles, in the manner of trying to save his manhood from further belittlement, quickly changed the topic: “Does anyone want to tell me what we are doing in the middle of the fucking forest naked? Also, why do I feel as though I have a hangover, when I know for a fact that I haven't drank?”

This effectively shut everyone up as the severity of the situation caught them up. They sat in contemplative silence for several minutes, thinking back on what little they could remember.

“The moon.” Derek said suddenly, eyes snapping open. He sat up, ignoring his nakedness entirely, and looked at Stiles. “The moon was unusually potent last night, that's the only explanation.”

Stiles thought about this for a second before retorting: “How is it that _the moon_ can be more 'potent' than usual? I mean, how would that even be _possible_?”

“I don't know, but it's the only thing that makes sense! Think about it, Scott, Isaac, and myself all have anchors to the mortal world, making change during the full moon something that can be more easily controlled, yet the moon called to us and we obeyed like so many pups fresh on their first hunt!”

“Well, that explains the werewolves, but what about us?” Lydia asks, arms crossed across her chest to give a semblance of modesty.

Derek, who was looking rather pleased with himself, abruptly dropped his smug-face, and once more lapsed into silence.

Scott, surprisingly, was the first to answer: “Maybe 'unusually potent' affects humans too? I mean, the word 'lunatic' was once used to describe someone who is insane, so maybe it comes from fact? Maybe humans are affected by the moon too, albeit on a smaller scale?”

Stiles shakes his head, “If that were the case, then were is everyone else?”

“Perhaps they made it back home?” Alison suggested, also wrapping her arms around herself in makeshift cover.

“As interesting as this all is, what difference does it make? Obviously nothing worth mentioning happened last night and, yeah, we may have woken up naked in the middle of the woods, but what of it? Stranger things have happened, am I right?” Erica said, the words all tumbling out at once, it seemed.

This seemed to put everyone at ease. With the exception of Stiles that is: “How is it that you know nothing happened? Can you remember anything?”

“No more than you, I'd guess.”

“Then how? Stiles pressed, desperate for anything that would shed light as to why he is naked near Derek, his all time favorite spank-bank withdrawal.

“No blood anywhere to be seen or smelled. Same goes for anything sex related. All I smell is sweat, congruent with a naked, midnight run through the woods.”

At this blatant, flippant wording, Stiles lost his cool.

“Am I really the only one who sees this as a problem! The last time someone did something without remembering what in the hell they were doing, Lydia brought Peter back from the dead!”

“Hey!” Lydia protested, as Peter nodded in agreement from where he was sitting, back resting against the tree a little ways away from the pack.

“He's got a point.” Peter said, eyes still closed and face turned towards the sky.

“Thank you.” Stiles said, exasperatedly

“Though, so does Erica. There are no immediate explanations as to what happened and, though this is all highly irregular, life must continue forward: I do believe that you all have school. Derek and myself will ask Dr. Deaton and anyone else who might know what is going on to try and figure things out; in the mean time, if anything strange happens while you are at school, leave immediately and find us.”

At the mention of school the teens groaned, but eventually found themselves up and walking furtively back towards their homes to shower and get ready for the day.

* * *

It seems, as the months go on, Beacon Hills gets weirder and weirder. With the climb in the crime rate, the strangeness seems to escalate.

Yet, in all his years as sheriff of the town, Sheriff Stilinski had never seen anything quite like it.

Well, actually that's not true: that young Lydia Martin had been found wandering the woods in a state of similar undress, though this one is slightly different.

For one, she could speak English, this young man cannot.

For another, even with all her natural beauty (for she is quite beautiful. He would have to be blind not to see it.), she was still flawed in some ways, and this young man seems to bear none of the normal physical flaws that seem to plague all of humanity.

For lack of a better term, quite literally, the boy is perfect.

And Sheriff Stilinski is, quite literally, speechless. For the entirety of his life, John Stilinski had been a woman type of man, but the sheer beauty of this young man is enough to make even him question whether or not his sexuality was not, at least partially, misplaced.

“Ubi sum?” the young man said several times, interspersed with “Quis enim es tu?” and “Potes vestem ad induendum mihi frigidum.”

“Is that Spanish?” the Lieutenant asked

“Sounds close to it, but not quite right?” the Sheriff said, more of a question than a comment

“Worth a shot?” the Lieutenant asks

“Why not, couldn't hurt.”

And not 15 minutes later, there was an interpreter in the room with the strangely beautiful young man.

“¿Cuál es su nombre?” asks the interpreter _. What is your name?_

The young man gives him a strange look, then says “Inanis strepitus sunt verba tua vix intelligibili, obscuri.”

“Obscuri...”

“Sic, sermo obscuri.”

“Latin! My god, your speaking Latin, aren't you?”

With the outburst, the boy merely stared, his piercing blue eyes unmoving.

“Um, Latine?”

“Corrigere.”

“Corriegere...Corregir...YES! Sheriff, this young man is speaking Latin!”

The Sheriff pushes the talk button for the mic: “Isn't Latin a dead language?”

This gives the interpreter pause for a second, before asking: “Poteris loqui Anglorum?”

“Quorsum?”

“Respondere placet.”

“Non possum loqui Anglorum.”

The interpreter turns back to the one way mirror of the interrogation room and says to the sheriff, as if it is the simplest thing in the world, “Apparently not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things.
> 
> 1) This is going to be a slow build story. Anyone expecting smut within the first several chapters is going to be mostly disappointed.
> 
> 2) I need a beta to read my work, mostly because two pairs of eyes are better than one.
> 
> Loves,
> 
> Dreyth


	3. Chapter 2

 The clearing smelled to a myriad of things: rain, trees, rotting leaves, dirt, animals, and so much more. The one thing that stood out to Sinviaus, though, was the absence of smells. As far as he could tell, there was a person here, yet there is no corresponding scent to determine where the person was, or where they went after they left.

Normally he would track the footprints left behind, but the rain had washed them away. In a bout of frustration, Sinviaus put his fist through a nearby tree, then ran north through the forest, trying to put the events of the previous night from his mind.

* * *

Stiles had made it home just in time to miss his dad leaving for work, staying behind the cover of the trees until his dad was well on his way down the road. With furtive glances left and right, he darted from the trees, across the street, and around to the back of his house, all the while hoping that no one had seen him. When he was inside, he slumped against the back door, and breathed for a moment.

When he had sufficiently rested his heart, he bounded up the stairs to his room and threw some clothes on, grabbed his pack and ran back downstairs. On his way out of the door, he snagged a poptart from the kitchen and wolfed it down as he ignored the speed limit on the way to school.

Scott, Alison, and Isaac met him in the front of the school, smiles all around as he pulled his baby into the parking lot.

_That's odd._ He thinks to himself, _that's the first time that Scott's been on time for school since the whole turning-into-a-teen-werewolf thing. And why are they all smiling? I mean, seriously, if not for the last couple months dealing with the Alpha Pack, then last night ought to have at least_ _ **freaked**_ _them out._

When Stiles steps from his jeep Scott, who is standing between Isaac and Alison, jerks his hand behind his back, and smiles somewhat guiltily at Stiles. Not that he saw anything: superhuman speed an all.

“So, anything new?” Isaac asks, grinning like a lunatic, all pearly whites and enthusiasm

“Well, aside from waking up naked in the forest, not so much. Granted, it's been, what, half an hour at most?”

Alison snorts, Isaac punches him in the shoulder, and Scott flicks him in the ear, all while Stiles has a full body spasm, trying to deflect both the hits simultaneously.

Stiles composes himself, then turns to Scott. “Seriously though, I know that everyone thinks that it's all fun and games, but waking up in the middle of the forest with no memory of how you got there is bad enough; add the fact that we were naked and, well, anything could have happened!” Stiles says, trying to put his emphatic worry into his words.

It must work, because Scott crinkles his forehead. “You're right, dude, we know. It's just, well, there were no immediate consequences and nothing that overtly screamed of foul play.” He tried to say other words but Scott, bless him, is like a Boggle board when it comes to trying to be coherent.

“What he means to say,”Isaac says, stepping up to the plate, “Is that, until side effects begin to manifest themselves, there's nothing we can do. As bad as it could be, we have no idea how to fix it an prevent it from happening again if we don't know what _it_ is.”

“So, even though it _could_ be bad, we have to wait it out to see what it is?” Stiles whines

“Pretty much.” Alison quips, tossing her curls over her shoulder with a careless flick

“That just...sucks.” Stiles whines again

“Are you still whining about last night?” Boyd's deep voice calls from the sidewalk behind them.

“Probably.” Erica says from her perch on his back

“Actually, he is.” Isaac says, bumping fists with Boyd, who holds Erica up with one arm as though it's easy.

“Stiles, everyone is fine; let it go.” Jackson growls, coming down the steps from the school.  
“God, seriously! How can I be the only one worried about this!”

“If it will make you feel better, I'll help you do research after school. I know how much you love your research.” Lydia says, coming to a stop and tangling her fingers with Jackson's.

Stiles visibly relaxes and, as he does, so does the rest of the pack.

* * *

“Look Sheriff, my Latin is rudimentary at best. We need to get someone in here who actually _knows_ how to speak it.” the interpreter says

“Who, exactly, do you know that can speak Latin? Until _very_ recently, I thought it was a dead language.”

“There is someone and, as chance would have it, she also has training as a psychologist.”

The sheriff gives a long-suffering sigh, then nods his head.

“Bring her in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple of things:
> 
> 1) I am going to comic-con this week. While I will have access to my computer, I probably won't get a lot of writing done.  
>  1b)Before you ask, yes, I am going to the Teen Wolf panel.
> 
> 2) I wasn't very clear last chapter: I need a Beta to read my work, and I was wondering if I had any volunteers. Usually I'm a pretty good writer, but it always helps to have another set of eyes reading your work critically before you post it.
> 
> 3) I'm still working up to the juicy stuff. I promise that I'll start writing longer chapters as soon as I flesh out the rest of the story.
> 
> Loves,
> 
> Dreyth


	4. Chapter 3

 “Three hours, and not a damn thing.” Stiles says, faceplanting onto the desk with a sigh

“That's because theirs nothing to find. Honestly, and this is coming from _me of all people_ ,” Lydia says, getting the dig in before continuing, “people often forget the specifics or, hell, even the whole party. It's actually quite common.”

“Yes, but they usually remember _going_ to the party, don't they? I don't even remember leaving my house.”

Lydia opens her mouth to refute this, but stops.

“And yes, I may be overreacting,” Stiles says, taking advantage of the silence, “as you said, there were no visible signs of tampering, but things like this don't just happen.”

In lieu of arguing, Lydia looks towards Stiles and asks “What is the date?”

“October 14th, why?”

Without another word, Lydia pulls the computer chair, and Stiles with it, out of the way of the computer, and begins to type in the browser quite rapidly. Among the first things to be pulled up are lunar charts, followed closely by almanacs detailing geomagnetic storms going back 200 years.

“What do you have?” Stiles asks, getting up from this chair to look over her shoulder

“Hm, I don't know yet. Last night didn't seem unusual...”

“But?”

“Look here,” Lydia says, pulling up the American Astronomical Society's website, “Last night was the full moon.”

“Yes, I know, what with my best friend being a werewolf and all.”

Lydia gives him her best “bitch-please” face, and continues on, “Last night was also the apex of a fifty year geomagnetic storm cycle.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, we know that the planets geomagnetic field can have an effect of the supernatural, even going as far as to substantially enhance the powers and abilities of any given creature.”

“Alright, I can take that. That still doesn't explain how the two of us got there. Last I checked we weren't werewolves.”

“I can shed some light on that, if you are willing to hear it.” Comes a deep voice from behind, and both Lydia and Stiles turn around to find a tall man with long white hair standing in the room with them.

* * *

“Ms. Morrell, glad you could make it.” The sheriff says, extending his hand, which the guidance counselor grips tightly in return.

“Glad to be of service.” she says in her usual unnervingly calm demeanor.

“He's just in here, if you'll follow me.” the sheriff says, extending his arm to show the way. Ms. Morrell dips her head in respect, then follows the sheriff down the hall to the interrogation room. He opens the door, then follows her inside.

She pulls the chair immediately in front of the strange boy, and sits down.

_**Do not be alarmed, My name is Malina. What is yours?** _

The boy, obviously not expecting to be addressed in his native tongue delivers the information readily.

_**My name is Lunas.** _

_**That is a lovely name.  
Thank you, though that is all I know.** _

This takes her back a bit, but she continues forward.

_**What do you mean?** _

_**I cannot tell you anything else about how I cam to be here.** _

_**Surely you must know something about it?** _

The boy sighs exasperatedly before responding, _**I have absolutely no idea about how I came to be in this city. Everything before last night under the moon is a blank.**_

_**Well, do you remember where you were when you woke up? Perhaps the area could provide some of the necessary clues so that we can get you back home.** _

The boy looks thoughtful for a moment, then says _**It was a clearing in the woods, not far from here. A short walk away from the river. It had many types of trees, though the most prominent were the firs.**_

_**Is there nothing else? The forest is vast.** _

_**Nothing. All I remember is waking up and not knowing where I was. I followed the sounds of the world, and found myself in an unsuspecting city where, when I came looking for sanctuary, I am instead treated like a prisoner.** _

The sternness in the words shocks Malina, but before she can respond, the boy continues: _**If this is the hospitality that is provided, then I worry for those that you would call your enemies.**_

Malina thinks carefully before responding. _**You are not a prisoner. In fact, you are free to leave if you so desire. The only reason they brought you in is to make sure that you were safe and unharmed. They were simply doing what it is that they were trained to do.**_

The boy looks at the sheriff, who looks more confused than ever before, before replying: _**I don't think that they would let me leave, even if it was in their nature to do so. I represent an unknown, heretofore unaccounted variable in their lives.**_

 _ **You'll find that we get many of those around here, especially of late.**_ Malina says with a small smile, before turning to the sheriff

“So, what's the news?” he asks

“He says his name is Lunas, but that he doesn't actually remember anything else. As far as he knows, he woke up for the first time last night in the woods.”

“Amnesia?”

“Could be, though I won't know for sure until I can get a proper diagnosis going. Is there anywhere that he can stay?”

The sheriff thinks for a moment before saying: “Yes, we have rooms here for drivers passing through after being pulled over for drowsy driving. They're not much, but they will do for the short term. I'll see if I can get a hold of Social Services first thing in the morning.”

“That would be excellent, thank you sheriff.” Malina praises, before turning back to Lunas _**For the time being, we would ask you to stay here. Not as a prisoner, but as a guest. They will provide you with food and extra clothing, as well as a place to rest, though you are free to leave at anytime.**_

Without another word, Lunas nods, then stands up following the sheriff from the room. After a moment, Malina stands up and too walks from the room.

* * *

“What the hell?” Stiles yells while Lydia screams and tries to hide behind him as though 190 pounds of pale skin and bone will stop someone from getting to her.

“Do not be alarmed, I merely wish to help you.” The man says, holding his arms, palms up, as a gesture of submissive peace.

“Well, you certainly could have knocked for one, instead of _breaking into my house!_ ” Stiles more or less growls in his direction

“Knock?” the man asks

“Yes, knock! You know, that thing you do with your fist against a door to let people know that you are there, and that you want to get in!” Lydia wails from her hiding place

“Huh, you humans have such strange customs. Fine then.” He says, as he walks over to Stiles' opened door, and knocks three times.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but does not ease himself from his alerted state.

“What exactly is it that you want?” Stiles asks again, staring the strange man right in the face.

“Simple really. You want to know what happened last night, and so do I. You are the Hale Pack Guardian, are you not?”

“Um, no? I'm pretty sure that's Deaton.”

“Huh. Usually I'm not wrong about that. No matter, I'm sure you'll suffice.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Stiles quips as Lydia snorts.

“Anyway,” the man continues, “I can shed some light on the events of last night, if you are willing to hear.”

“Have you seen this kid?” Lydia says, flicking one of Stiles' ears, “He is, quite literally, all ears. We're good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the late post. As said last, I was at comic-con. The Teen Wolf panel was AMAZING! And that reveal with Keahu was just awesome! Apparently he made that costume himself so, you know, color me impressed. 
> 
> Anyway, just a few things:
> 
> First, when I get to Chapter 5, I'm going to start going back and revising the previous chapters. I'll add some things, take some things out, just basic housekeeping things. If anything really big get's changed, I'll be sure to put a note for it at the beginning of the next post.
> 
> Second, I still need a beta for my work. I've been looking all over what seems like the universe trying to find someone, and it just isn't working. If anyone who reads this story would like to be my beta, just pm me, or put a comment below.
> 
> Loves, 
> 
> Dreyth


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took some stuff from Jim Butcher's "Dresden Files", though only the titles. Everything else pertaining to the Fae and the Courts therein is different from the aforementioned series of novels. No copyright infringement intended, nor payment sought. Just good ol' fashioned writing for the fun of it.

 “He's not wrong, you know.” Peter says as he descends the stairs from the second floor, pulling a shirt over his head as he does, “I know we all played it off as something that was no big deal but, take it from me, people's memories don't just fail like that. It takes some serious tampering.”

Derek, who is sitting at the table, looks pensive.

“You're right, of course you are. I just didn't want to worry the rest of the pack.” Derek says over the steeple of his fingers.

“That's all well and good, but I don't think that it's the right call. Putting them at ease will only make it easier for whatever it was that happened to happen again. When someone tampers with your mind, if you're not vigilant, it could very easily happen again.”

“So what your saying is, instead of trying to put their minds at rest, I should rile them up even further. Trying to control a bunch of teen werewolves is like trying to herd cats! Honestly, I don't know how mom and dad coped!”

As if just realizing what he'd said, Derek's eyes went wide, and Peter starts to grin.

“That's the first time you've mentioned them since you've been back to Beacon Hills.”

Derek just grunts, and balls his fists into his eyes as if rubbing at them will remove a particularly painful obstruction.

“Really, it's a good...”

“Can we just not talk about it. Please.”

Peter closes his mouth after having been cut off, and moves to sit across from Derek at the table. He rests his hand on Dereks forearm, but says nothing more about it.

“Well, if you're truly as interested as you say you are, we could always ask Deaton about what happened. At least, that should help us rule some things out, yes?”

Derek looks up at Peter through his fingers and takes the out for what it is.

“Yes, let's do that.”

* * *

“Last night there was a very large disturbance in the Lunar Obice. We believe this is what caused all of the lunar-centric creatures to react in such a manner.”

The statement was made so matter-of-factly that Lydia and Stiles stood there for a moment, absorbing it in silence.

Finally, Stiles spoke, “Two questions: first, what do you mean “we”, and second, last I checked neither Lydia or I are werewolves , so how would a “disturbance” in the whatchamacallit affect us?”

The man chuckled, then stepped forward, putting himself more fully in the light. “The answer to your second question will more fully explain the answer to the first. You are not a werewolf, and neither are me and my people.”

“Which brings me back to my second question: why would a “disturbance in the Lunar whatever” affect Lydia and I?”

“Humans, shapeshifters, and my people are all affected by the moon. For some it is their power, for others it is their life. It is complicated, to say the least, but all things on Earth are affected by the moon.” The man says, his tone growing testy.

“Well, if you aren't a human, and you aren't a werewolf, then what are you?” Lydia asks, stepping to equal footing with Stiles, looking at the man full in the face

“The easy answer is fairy, but it is much more complicated than you think. Look, there isn't much time for anything else; I came to you because I need your help. We think that we know what caused the disturbance, but we don't know how to find it.”

“What it? What are you looking for?” Stiles asks

The man huffs, then says “We believe that the disturbance was caused by a Celestial. And whenever such a disturbance occurs to such a magnitude there is always physical evidence. What I need is to find the epicenter of this activity. I traced it to the forested area right outside of this town, but I lost the sense of it almost immediately after setting foot into it.”

“What is a Celestial?” Lydia asks, and Stiles looks pointedly after her towards the man.

“Call them angels, or gods, or whatever takes your fancy, they are about the same anyway. Extremely powerful beings from a plane outside our own, that have more power over ours than any of us would feel comfortable admitting.” the man snaps, “Can we go now? The longer we wait, the more likely it is that whatever was left behind has already been damaged or destroyed completely.”

The desperation in his voice near the end gives pause to what Stiles was going to say. He thinks about it a moment longer before looking at Lydia, who shrugs.

“Fine, we'll help you. We just have to stop somewhere first.”

* * *

_6 hours ago..._

The drive to Deaton's was uneventful (ie: silent), and passed with relative speed. Derek and Peter pull into the tiny parking lot, and moved towards the front door; the closed sign was still up.

“You try knocking, I'll go around back.” Peter says, clapping me on the shoulder as he turns to run around the corner.

Derek knocks on the front door firmly, rattling the glass slightly as he does. After a few moments of stillness, he knocks again. This happens once more before he sees a figure through the glass.

Dr. Deaton makes his way towards the door, stumbling slightly as he does. He unlocks it, and lets Derek in. Without a word, he leads Derek back into the operating room, where Peter is already waiting.

“I presume you're here about last night?” Deaton asks, cottoning onto the reason right away,

“Yes.” Peter says, while Derek grunts an affirmation.

“Then let me tell you what I know: there was a massive disturbance in the Lunar Obice, caused by a force or forces heretofore unknown.”

Derek waits for a few seconds before asking: “That's it?”

Dr. Deaton raises an eyebrow at Derek's tone before saying “To be fair, you caught me right as I was going to start researching into the matter. Care to join me? We can make our way through the source materials much more swiftly if there is more than one head doing the thinking.”

Both Derek and Peter ascent, and Dr. Deaton nods before entering a side room. He shuffles around for a moment before he exits with an armful of what appear to be rather heavy, thick leather bound books.

They dive into it immediately, and begin reading.

An hour or so later, Peter asks: “What exactly is the Lunar Obice. There are several references to it in this book, but I don't understand them in context.”

Dr. Deaton puts his finger on the place where he stops, and looks up at Peter, meeting his eyes: “The Lunar Obice is a sort barrier between our plane and the others. It is powered, as you can probably guess from its name, by the moon.”

“I see. So, now that what I'm reading actually makes sense, I'm a little more... unsettled... than usual.”

Derek looks up, and Peter continues: “If what I'm reading is correct, and there is no reason to believe that it's not, then even the smallest fluctuation within this forcefield takes tremendous amounts of power.”

“Magnitudes beyond that which anything, being or machine, is capable of producing on our fair planet.” Deaton finishes for him, closing his book, leaving a marker in his place. “Find anything Derek?”

“Not even a little bit, but I'll keep looking.”

Deaton nods, then opens his book and continues reading. Several more hours pass with no such luck, and Derek is about ready to call it off as a bad job when they hear the front door open.

“Dr. Deaton, are you here?” Stiles voice rings out from the front, and Derek suppresses a groan.

“In the back, come on through.” Deaton calls, closing his book and standing.

“He will need to open the barrier to allow me in.” comes a voice that neither Derek nor Peter recognize and, from the looks of it, nor does Dr. Deaton.

“Who is that?” Dr. Deaton asks, moving more towards the front of the clinic, only the slightest hitch in his step betraying any emotion other than the calm that he fronts.

“Fear not emissary, I will not harm you, you have my word.” the voice says again, and Derek hears a snort belonging, most definitely, to Lydia.

“Forgive me, but I don't know who you are. How can I trust your word?”

“Vows are a very special bond among my people. They cannot be broken. Bent to suit our wills, but never broken. You have my word, no one in this establishment will be harmed by myself or my kin.”

Something like recognition sparked in Deatons eyes, but still he remained unmoved.

“What are you?” Deaton asks, his calm taking over.

“As I have said before, I will not...”

“What are you?” he asks again, steel making its way into his voice.

“Truly, this is not necessary...”

“Thrice said and done, what are you?”

The voice sighs, then responds “I am Unseelie Fae. One of the Sidhe Lords of the Winter Court.”

Derek and Peter looked at each other bewildered, while Deaton stood there slack jawed. After a moment of silence, Lydia calls back: “Dr. Deaton?”

That brings him back and, shakily, he walks to the front of the clinic to open the barrier. When he comes back, he is followed by Stiles, Lydia, and a white haired man of alien beauty.

“Pardon my asking, but what is a 'sidhe'?” Peter asks, looking at the white haired man with a mixture of awe and perturbation.

Dr. Deaton opens his mouth to speak, but is beaten to it by the white haired man himself: “The sidhe are a type of fairy, much like the beings that you know as elves. I, personally, am Sinviaus, Duke, and personal envoy, to Queen Mab, Monarch of the Winter Court.”

When this doesn't garner a response, Dr. Deaton says: “He's a fairy”

Recognition dawns on everyone's faces while Sinviaus stiffens. “If you must call me by something other than sidhe, I would prefer the term fae. Fairy is, how would you put it...derogatory.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know.” Dr. Deaton says, unrushed as though he were simply telling the time of the day.

“That is quite alright. What progress have you made?” Sinviaus asks, moving to the table to look at the books laid there.

“All we have been able to determine so far, aside from the fact that there was, indeed, a disturbance in the Lunar Obice, is the fact that whatever caused such a massive upheaval must have been tremendous in power. Other than that, we haven't a clue. These books can only tell us so much, and I'm afraid that they are all that I have on the matter.” Dr. Deaton says, pointing to the four books on the table.

“You are correct. My Queen believes, and I find myself agreeing, that this 'upheaval' as you call it, was caused by the descension of a Celestial.”

The room looks non-plussed, while Dr. Deaton takes in a sharp breath.

“What exactly does that mean?” Stiles asks

“It means that things are about to change.” Dr. Deaton says, looking Sinviaus in the eyes, “In ways that neither you, nor I,” he says, gesturing between Sinviaus and himself, “can fully predict or comprehend.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Life caught up with me, I guess. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I tried to take a little longer on it than I usually do, make it a more full and rich reading experience, but I'm afraid I'm not very good at beginnings.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Loves,
> 
> Dreyth


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